


Leap Without Looking

by Blackpenny



Series: From the Sixth Continent to Gondwana [7]
Category: Blake et Mortimer | Blake and Mortimer
Genre: Bodyswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackpenny/pseuds/Blackpenny
Summary: Colonel Olrik's impulsiveness will be his undoing and his salvation.





	

The distraction is working. Olrik and Mortimer skim their way back through to their bodies, cooperating for once in their lives. As they approach the openings Olrik snakes past Mortimer and desperately dives into the wrong portal.

Within seconds he’s being revived and hauled out of the container, groggy and disoriented with hell breaking lose all over the place. One of Mortimer’s friends – Lacoure? Larouche? – is holding one of his shoulders and some kid whom he should probably know is holding the other. Olrik take’s the boy’s gun and shoots at the enraged Ashoka… who is a woman? That’s an unexpected turn. 

Ashoka rushes towards Nasir, knife at the ready. The boy urges him to shoot, which Olrik would do in a second if he could focus his – Mortimer’s – eyes. Screw it, he aims in the right direction and fires three rapid shots. To hell with finesse. At least some of the shots hit home because Ashoka crumples in a bloody heap. Olrik stares at her in astonishment as she curses Mortimer. They have a history, apparently. Olrik looks the woman in the eyes, willing her to realize that is he who has finished her off, not Mortimer. That’s what you get for trying to enslave me, whoever you are.

The roof starts to literally cave in, so the whole party runs for it. Olrik lags behind slightly to hide his nausea and disorientation. He notes that Labrousse (that’s it!) at least makes a pass at retrieving his (Olrik’s) body from the sarcophagus. He hates to leave that behind, especially as Mortimer’s form is clearly going to be a problem. No time to stop, no time to think. Olrik tumbles into the submersible as boulders of ice rain down.

There’s almost no time to be afraid in the chaos and noise. Olrik is shocked to find himself face to face with a wonderfully preserved dinosaur, a tyrannosaurus! But no time to think about that either as a needle of rock punctures the submersible, pinning them like a butterfly. Olrik does his best to plug the breach, without much success. A wave of nausea and dizziness hits him like a gut punch. Labrousse and Nasir are babbling about something as… surely that’s not lava. It is. Hell.

The explosion that follows sends the whole craft flying. They are dead.

***

Well, no, they’re not. In fact, except for hurting in every inch of this borrowed body, Olrik is fine and so is everyone else. They’re stranded, but that seems like a minor problem after all they’ve gone through. Olrik goes through Mortimer’s – his – pockets and pulls out matches and some kind of radio. He stammers foolishly as Labrousse explain what this thing, an electronic emitter, can do for them. Luckily, his excuses about headache and memory loss are accepted. He’s barely lying. His head is throbbing mightily and he has no idea what day it is. Between the gulag, the journey, and the damned sarcophagus he’s been badly shaken up. He stays quiet and rests, gathering the story from the others. So Ashoka was Gita, a former lover of Mortimer’s from decades past. You can’t say the professor hasn’t had an interesting life. Those baboons, the mask! The princess had a flair for the dramatic and could certainly hold a grudge. Olrik admires that, and is very glad he killed her. He has enough enemies of his own, no need to deal with Mortimer’s. 

As the sun begins to set and Labrousse begins to fret, the sound of a seaplane is heard over the waves. They’re saved. Soon they’re back on the Madeleine, a sumptuous yacht. Their host is Lord Archibald McAuchentoshan (what a mouthful) who, like all eccentric billionaires, has a free-flowing supply of fine liquor. Olrik forces himself to relax, to accept the casual touch of people who would normally want him dead or in jail. Blake squeezes his arm, Lord Archibald claps him on the back. Ugh. 

Olrik tells the bare bones of the Ashoka story and lets Nasir and Labrousse fill in the details. Nobody notices anything amiss except Blake, who is watching him with concern. Surely the captain doesn’t suspect anything? Olrik gives his new flatmate (good lord!) a reassuring smile and tries to absorb the shock of inhabiting the wrong body. 

It is so very much the wrong body. Lifting a glass of whiskey, using his brain to manipulate this pink, square hand that does not belong to him, is profoundly disturbing. At least the professor’s body is a good one – very strong and solid, with decent endurance. The eyes aren’t as keen as he’s used to, but the other senses seem fine. The fatigue and dizziness is probably just the aftereffect of the Ashoka’s technology. Please, god, don’t let him have some kind of chronic condition after all he went through to make this escape.

Finally, Olrik is able to make his excuses and go to bed. Blake follows him closely, which leads to another worry. Olrik has never quite determined the precise nature of the relationship between Blake and Mortimer. Will Blake embrace him? Push him into a stairwell for a kiss? Olrik is not rigid about sexual matters, and has gritted his teeth through a few things he’d rather forget, but he cannot face the thought of being with Blake. No, not now, not ever, no way. 

Blake only wants to talk, and offers no contact beyond a searching look and an affectionate grasp of the shoulder. On the way to the berths Olrik stumbles on a step (damn these shorter legs) and drops to one knee. Blake helps him to his feet and leads the way to the beds. His knee smarts, but Olrik is grateful for more proof of his fragile condition. There’s no way Blake could expect anything of him now. He’s not a brute.

“I’m going to get you some water and aspirin, old man,” Blake tells him.

“Sorry to be a bother, Blake. This headache is beginning to be an inconvenience!” That seemed to strike the right note. 

When Blake leaves, Olrik changes into pajamas while keeping his eyes on his surroundings. It’s rather awful. Olrik literally stole this body, but now that he has it the reality of his situation is very uncomfortable. Mortimer is so very pale and his body hair is so very red and plentiful. Damn. He should find the head before he goes to sleep. Just get it over with. Again, Mortimer proves to be perfectly normal and so very wrong, wrong, wrong.   
Blake returns with water, aspirin, and Nasir. Ah, good, they’re all sharing the space. He thanks Blake for the pills and settles into a lower berth. Goodnights all round, lights out. Blake and Nasir seem to fall asleep right away, but Olrik stays awake for long time. If he’s going to continue on in this body he must extricate himself from Mortimer’s life. That means breaking with physics, breaking with Blake, breaking with England forever. Will he have to fake his own death? Maybe pantomime a nervous breakdown and disappear while at a spa on the continent? Perhaps a runaway marriage is in order; Mortimer has a lady or two in his circle. Good god, it’s been a long time since he’s been with a woman. Olrik wonders briefly how difficult it would be to arrange an explosion at a government lab. 

If he keeps going on like this the headache will only get worse. Olrik sighs and chuckles silently. Of all the ridiculous situations he’s landed in over the years this takes the biscuit. How on earth can he get out of this? Is this a fresh start or a fresh hell?


End file.
